Culpability on the Deathbed
by MissEdnaShamrock
Summary: I had a dream and decided to write it all out and now it's a fullon story. Sam's hurt and dead guilty that Jess and his mother died because of him. He's on the phone to John and he asks about that fateful night. Set S1E21 Salvation. Hurt!Sam, Worried!Dean
1. Guilty

**Ok, so I had a dream last night where Sam's in despair, on the phone to John and asking about what happened to Mary. He's feeling really guilty after finding out that the Yellow-Eyed Demon came after him like that and his mum and girlfriend died because of him. It's not surprising what set it off, I was watching Salvation just before I went to bed. I know exactly how the story went. So, I decided to write out my dream. Hope you like the random crap that occurs in my subconscious mind. :D**

* * *

**Title:**** Culpability on the Deathbed**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own anything apart from the dream. Wow, imagine if you could sue for dreaming about a character you owned.**

* * *

"_It's going after families," John said, sitting at the desk. "Just like it went after us."_

"_Families with infants?" Sam asked, as he leant by the kitchen sink, looking down at his father._

"_Yeah," John replied. "The night of the kid's six month birthday."_

"_I was six months old that night?" Sam asked, unknowing until now._

"_Exactly six months."_

"_So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason," Sam said, scoffing in desolation. "The same way it went for me?"_

_Neither John, nor Dean replied to Sam. John looked away, awkwardly, not making any eye contact with Sam. "So Mom's death? Jessica? It's all coz of me?"_

"_We don't know that, Sam-"_

"_Oh, really? Coz I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean," Sam said, raising his voice, Dean's following very soon after._

"_For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault."_

"_Yeah, you're right! It's not my fault, but it's my problem!"_

"_No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!"_

**~ Season 1, Episode 21 - Salvation**

* * *

Sam was alone. He, Dean and John were staying in a knew motel, losing the trail of scent from the vampires they'd met in Colorado. They were pretty pissed about the death of Luther, particularly Kate and it seemed they'd wanted revenge. The boys weren't so worried. They'd lose the trail or kill them somehow, no matter how nasty those sons of bitches could be. And Sam found out how nasty they could be as he lay on the ground, blood slowly leaking from his gut and staring at the severed head of Kate on the other side of the table in front of him. She was angry as hell, jumping Sam when he was alone, ready to kill him. But Sam was a good hunter. It took a good amount of fighting. Hell, the bitch stabbed him. Yet, Sam sliced her head clean off. There was very little time for a moment of victory as Sam collapsed to the floor, white hot pain taking over.

And there he lay on his left side, staring blankly into space, able to make little movement without pain, his eyes clouded in despair. Slowly fading into sleep, trying with all his might to stay awake. He knew he needed to stay awake. Just stay awake.

John and Dean were doing research over children due to have their six month birthday. They wouldn't be back for a few hours, at least. Sam was hoping somehow, they'd turn up any minute. Dean forgot fake-id. Dad forgot his diary. But Sam knew, deep down that neither of them were that careless. His mind was all over the place and it lingered back to what his dad told him. About why his mom had to die. Why Jessica had fallen victim. He'd felt guilty, like he was to blame for the deaths of his loved ones. His mother, a woman he couldn't even remember and yet he'd loved her like a mother whether she was living or dead. The Yellow-Eyed Demon was after him and she was killed as a result. And Jessica, a girl he'd fallen in love with, who'd died because he loved her. How could you not feel guilty?

A noise woke Sam up fully, making him flinch and cry out in pain. He looked down, seeing the blood trail from under his shirt, staining onto the carpet. He soon realised an annoying tune coming from his back pocket and frowned at what it was at first. He recognised the sound as his ringtone. Someone was calling him. This was his chance to get help. He slowly reached for his phone, being careful not to damage himself even further as he reached, but hasty as he didn't want it to stop ringing. He managed to get it to his ear and he heard his Dad's voice on the other line. Sam rested, exhausted with pain and blood loss. "Hey, Sam, it's Dad," he heard. "Dean can't remember if you checked the west or east Salvation hospital, which one was it?"

Sam didn't reply. He had a tremor of pain through his stomach and he froze, taking in little breaths and trying to move as little as possible until the pain subsided. "Sam?" his dad prompted, slight apprehension in his voice.

"Dad," Sam breathed back, pained.

"Sam? What's wrong?" John said. He was driving in the Impala, Dean glancing over to him as he drove behind the wheel.

"Kate," Sam panted. "She came back."

"Dean, get back to the motel, fast" John said, hurriedly. Dean obeyed without hesitation, turning the car around. Dean was immediately anxious. It would definitely take more than thirty minutes, even with Dean driving and he didn't know what was wrong. John spoke back down the phone to Sam. "Sam, what happened?"

"She found us," Sam said with difficulty.

"What's wrong with you?" John asked hearing the rasp in Sam's voice.

Sam didn't reply immediately, he was in a lot of pain. He breathed rapidly, preparing himself to answer. "Stabbed me."

"Ok, just hang in there, Sammy, we're on our way,"

"Dad, what happened?" Dean asked, scared, but John ignored him and put his full attention on Sam.

"Where's Kate now?" John asked, hearing Dean repeat her name. He could tell Dean was scared for his brother, being kept in the dark like this but right now, Sam need John to talk to him.

"Dead," Sam said, hoarsely. His eyes and nose scrunched tight in pain, trying to deal with it and block it out.

"You're gunna be fine, son," John said. "Stay on the line, I'm right here."

Sam didn't reply. He was tired. So, so tired. If it wasn't for hearing his Dad's voice on the other end of the line, he'd probably be unconscious right now. John slightly panicked when Sam didn't reply. "Sam?"

"Dad," Sam said, still pained, "what happened?"

"What do you mean?" John asked, in a caring and fatherly way.

"That night," Sam said. "What happened?"

John instantly knew what Sam was talking about. He didn't know what to say. "Sam, don't worry yourself about it."

"But…Mom," Sam said.

"Sam," John said, a little authority in his voice. "She went in to save you. Any mother would. But…" John struggled to relive what had happened, but he knew Sam needed to know, whether he was injured or not. "She didn't stand a chance."

Sam didn't know whether the tear falling past the bridge of his nose was from his guilt of what happened to his mother or the pain from his stab wound.

John took a deep breath, knowing what Sam was thinking. "It's not your fault." Sam opened his eyes. "You're not to blame, Sammy."

"Dad, what's wrong with him?" Dean asked, desperate to know. John turned the mouthpiece of the phone away as he turned to Dean.

"Kate found us. She stabbed him," John said and turned back to the phone. Sam didn't hear John telling Dean, nor was he paying attention. He was so exhausted and fed up of the pain from the stab. He wanted to sleep. Just to rest and not feel any pain, just for a little while. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to…

"Sam?" John called down the phone. He got no reply. "Sammy?"

Dean looked at his dad, nervously, still keeping an eye on the road. John looked anxiously at Dean as he lowered the phone. "He's not replying. Step on it, Dean."

Dean was already going well over the speed limit but didn't care if he was speeding even further. He needed to get to his brother. And fast…Sam could be dead for all they knew.

**The End**

* * *

**Ok, so I just felt inspired to write that for a little. I don't know what happens after this so I figured a little wonder of what would happen would make a good ending. Is Sam dead or alive? Who knows. Like the movie that ends with the bus hanging over the ledge. You never know if they make it or not. (:**

**Hope you enjoyed :D**


	2. It's My Life

**This was just meant to be a oneshot. But I've had many people requesting more of this. I feel like Stephanie Meyer! Had a dream, wrote it out and now it's turning into an entire story! In fact, I'm really happy you guys are so enthusiastic and supportive of this, I'm surprised you guys want more of this. I didn't actually know if Sam would have died or not, I woke up too soon to find out. So, here's how it'll go :) I do like Hurt!Sam fics :D**

* * *

**Title:**** Culpability on the Deathbed**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own anything apart from the dream. Wow, imagine if you could sue for dreaming about a character you owned.**

In and out, in and out, Sam faded from awareness. Sleep came and went unexpectedly. Sometimes he was suddenly aware of the pain in his gut. Others he completely forgot about it. He could feel his already little energy draining as his blood loss gradually grew. He could tell by that he needed helper even faster, especially when the taste of blood creep into his mouth.

Sam remembered his Dad's voice on the other end of the phone. He noticed his hand still holding the phone; it was resting against his cheek. Dad? Was he still there? Was he still on his way? Sam called tiredly on the other end a few times, however, there was no reply. Not even a sound of movement or signal. Sam looked at the screen and noticed his phone had turned itself off. Ran out of battery. Sam let his arm fall, his phone bouncing out of his hand as it hit the floor.

John and Dean arrived at the motel within twenty-five minutes of the phone-call. Dean was first in the door, quickly scanning the room. He'd noticed something unusual behind the table in front of him as he craned his neck, a look of urgency on his face.

"Sam!"

Dean ran slid over the table, whilst John ran around it. Dean knelt in front of his unconscious brother, lifting his head from the floor. Dean arched to the right, trying to face Sam. "Sammy?" Dean called, lightly tapping his cheek, the blood from Sam's mouth slowly dripping onto Dean's hand. "Sammy?!"

Dean saw his brothers eyes moving stealthily as they opened. "Dean," Sam replied, quietly and painfully.

"It's ok, Sam, it's not that bad," Dean said, not actually having a clue whether he was right or not. "It just feels like it."

Sam screwed his face slightly as John lifted his shirt to get a look at the wound. Dean couldn't see the stab from his angle and couldn't tell what his father was thinking. He was good with facial expressions.

"Dean, help me get him up," John said. Dean nodded as he moved ahead of Sam, taking his shoulders. John placed his right arm under Sam's knees and his left across Sam's back. "Ok, one. Two. Three."

Sam groaned as he was being lifted from the ground. John was a strong man, able to carry Sam a lot easier than Dean would. Dean followed John as he rushed outside, holding a limp and slightly conscious Sam in his arms. He felt awful seeing his brother, too tired and pained to even lift his head. Dean looked at Kate's body, her head decapitated near it as he ran past. But he didn't linger for long. He ran past his father and brother, opening the back door of the car.

"No, Dean, the front seat." John said. Dean frowned, but trusted his father's choices. He shut the back door and opened the front passenger seat. John rested Sam in the seat, careful not to hurt him even further but there wasn't much luck. "Dean, take him to the nearest hospital."

"Wait, Dad, what about you?" Dean paused, standing between the opened door and the drivers seat as he was about to get in.

"I gotta deal with that bitch." John said. "If she's found, that could mean a lotta trouble. I'll see you in the hospital in an hour, at the latest."

"Dad-"

"Go, Dean!" John yelled. Dean wasn't happy, but he quickly got in the car and sped out of the driveway, much to Sam's discomfort.

"It's alright, Sammy, it's not that bad," Dean said, glancing from him to the road, taking care not to crash. "You're gunna be alright." Dean looked at Sam more closely this time, noticing he was losing consciousness again. "Sam?" he called. "Sammy!"

Sam's face tightened and let a painful moan in reply. "Come on, Sam, you gotta stay awake."

"Tired," Sam mumbled, simply. It was like they were kids again. Sometimes if he was ill, even with a simple cold, Dean would have to be the one to get him up and ready to go on the road again. Sam's argument to stay in bed was always: "Tired."

"Come on, Sam, I know it's painful but you have to stay awake." Dean said. Sam wasn't doing anything to wake himself up. Dean could tell he was slipping further and further into sleep so Dean thought he'd do the first thing that came into his mind. He was very much multitasking as he watched the road, kept an eye on Sam _and _loaded the CD player. Blasting on the radio came Bon Jovi, full volume, hopefully stopping Sam from going into sleep.

"Come on, Sammy! You love this song!" Dean said, music blasting away.

"Dean," Sam breathed with half an annoyed frown, half pained.

"Just listen to it, Sam!" Dean said, starting to sing along.

"_I ain't gunna be another face in the crowd, you're gunna hear my face when I shout it out loud!" _Dean roared. He was doing his best to keep spirits as high as possible.

"_It's my life! It's now or never!_

_I ain't gunna live forever!_

_I just wanna live while I'm alive!_

_My heart is like an open highway!_

_Like Frankie said, I did it my way!_

_I just wanna live while I'm alive!_

_It's. My. Life!"_

Sam sat there, uncomfortable and having to listen to Dean's out of tune singing. He knew what he was doing. Trying to keep him awake. Sam really didn't want to stay awake. He wanted to get away from the pain. But he couldn't. Not with Bon Jovi ramming in his ears. But maybe on some level, he was making himself stay awake for Dean.

But how long could he stay awake for?

* * *

**Dun dun dun!!!! This will be continued, don't worry. But lately I've been so crazed, had exams for the past 2 weeks! But I hope you enjoy. I think I know what's going to happen...I'm mainly finding out as I write and go along. LOL**

**Ednaxx**

**P.S. I totally understand why Dean loves Bon Jovi so much. I was listening to _It's My Life_ last weekend CONSTANTLY! I was even happy to find that after finding Cry Wolf because Jared Padalecki's in it, it also had Bon Jovi!! Two for the price of one!!! XD**


	3. 5050

**Title:**** Culpability on the Deathbed**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own anything apart from the dream. Wow, imagine if you could sue for dreaming about a character you owned.**

**Ok, so I don't know much about medical stuff but just go along. I'm being as clever as I can with it. And if you think, 'hang on, that wouldn't happen' then remember this is a show about two brothers hunting evil stuff. Awesome, but not real. Well, as far as we know. XD**

***

Dean had gotten Sam to the hospital, after a lot of multi-tasking by trying to keep him awake. He carried him in, fast, lots of alert and curious eyes looking in on the drama. Nurses dressed clear in light blue rushing over with a wheel bed taking Sam's wellbeing out of Dean's control. He followed Sam along the corridors, keeping in his brothers eye line, making sure Sam could see him.

"You're alright, Sam" Dean called. Sam heard alert voices surrounding him, saying things he didn't understand. The only voice he heard clearly was his brothers…somehow only hearing him say things are going to be ok means Sam believes it. Generally, when Dean says things are going to be alright it's because it always is. Sam kept his eyes open, his only comfort being Dean following him and somehow keeping calm. In all truth and despite all the pain, Sam was terrified like hell. He was scared of what would happen. He wanted to sleep so badly but now that everything had suck in, he was scared that if he let himself sleep he might never wake up again.

Dean was now by Sam's side, placing his hand on his ill-treated brother's shoulder. Sam widened his eyes to the ceiling, his best attempt to stay awake. He looked to his right, seeing Dean's face. "You're gunna be ok, Sammy," he said. Sam was terrified but felt comforted by these words.

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't come through," said one of the nurses. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he came to a halt, watching Sam being rushed through double doors. Dean looked over the nurse's shoulder.

"I'm right here, Sammy!" Dean called after. The nurse headed in, leaving Dean standing in front of those doors, alone. Now that he wasn't with Sam, he felt so empty, unable to help him. Everything had begun to sink in, now that he wasn't rushing anywhere. Dean raised his hands to his head, heart pumping, heavy breathing and terrified to the tips of his toes. He wiped his hands down his face in distress, praying to see Sam well again…

***

John watched the torching corpse of the vampire turned to ash. Feeling nothing but hate toward this supernatural freak, he enjoyed watching the body being torched, proud of his seriously injured son killing the bitch.

He needed to see his son. He knew this. But he also knew that there was something else that needed to be done. Someone had tipped Kate off about where they were. There was no way she could have found them so easily. John had too much experience not to know this.

***

Dean's head was in his hands after hours of waiting. He hadn't moved from the spot, in case someone came out about Sam. It terrified him, how long he could have lain there, unable to get help. And why were they taking so long?

Dean noticed a doctor appearing out of he A&E. One he recognised was Sam's doctor. Dean shot up our of his seat in a flash, desperate to know if he was ok. "How is he, Doc?" he asked politely.

"He's holding up," she said. "I'm Dr Kathy Reynolds, I'll be Sam's doctor."

Dean felt too in the dark to reply or even take notice of her last sentence. "What's wrong, exactly?"

"I'm sorry, I need to know your relation to Sam before I give that information," she said.

"Brother" Dean blurted. "I-I'm his brother," he then stuttered. "Please, just tell me what's wrong."

"He was stabbed in the upper stomach and the lower chest and it caught on the bottom of his lung. He's lost a lot of blood, especially during the surgery just now." Dr Reynolds said.

"Wait, wait a minute, he was breathing as though his lung was ok," Dean said.

"It wasn't that noticeable," she replied. "The pain would have been so severe in his abdomen, he wouldn't have noticed the lung and neither would you."

"So, uhh, so what does that mean?" Dean asked, trying his best not to get emotional.

"He's being closely monitored. The tear in his lung wasn't as severe as it could have been, but it caused a lot of breathing trouble. He'll find it difficult for a while."

"So, he'll be ok?" Dean asked, his spirits raised.

Reynolds look at him sympathetically. "I don't know." Dean felt his heart sink to the middle of the earth. "It's too early to tell. Things could turn ugly. Right now…it's fifty-fifty."

Dean nodded in reply, looking down in attempt to prevent tears falling from his glassy eyes. Reynolds put her hand lightly on Dean's shoulder. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you better news." Dean nodded violently, looking up at the ceiling. "Would you like to see him?"

Dean looked at her, with a small smile. "Yeah," he whispered. Dr Reynolds turned around back through the double doors, holding one open for Dean. She guided him through the corridors where many other patients in life threatening situations were being treated. Finally, they reached Sam. Weak, vulnerable, hurt Sam.

"He'll be unconscious for a while," Reynolds said. "We'll move him into a room soon. Take however long you need."

"Thanks, Doc," Dean said, sitting in a chair that was just provided for him. Reynolds left Dean along with Sam, who was lying on a flat bed and a large tube in his mouth to help him breathe easier. The horrible beeping and humming from machines made things even worse. Dean looked at Sam's ashen face, thinking about all the times he and his brother had been kicked, punched, strangled, injured and yet all of those times, they could just walk it off. This time Dean had to get his head around the fact that just because Sam was being treated…he's not of out hot water yet. Something could go wrong. And just like that, it could happen.

"Heya, Sammy" Dean said after about ten minutes of sitting with his brother. "Dad's dealt with the vampire bitch. But from the way you finished her off, there was no way she was gunna get up again, I'll tell you."

Dean wasn't expecting any sort of reply. But he still felt alone when Sam made no reaction whatsoever. "You know, I'm real proud of you Sammy. The way you fought her off." he said. "You're not getting rusty at all."

"I'm sorry sir," a nurse approached him. "He's ready to be transferred to another ward now."

"Oh no, that's ok," Dean said politely, leaning forward.

"We'll be along in a minute," she smiled and left. Dean turned back towards Sam.

"You better make it, Sam," Dean said. "Coz if you don't when I meet you on the other side, I'm gunna kick your sorry ass," Dean joked. It was a poor attempt to make him feel like he was having a conversation. "You just get better, Sammy," Dean said, as the nurses were approaching with a trolley. Dean got out of the way and watched as they made the transfer. He wanted to help Sam, himself. He should be the one helping Sam and looking out for Sam.

It's his job.

**

**Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for the late update but I've just been crazed lately. Exams, exams and more FREAKING EXAMS! Stupid history. I'm gunna murder that history bitch someday. -_-**

**Reviews are my drug. Keep me on a high!**

**Ednax**


End file.
